


Operation: Harmony Extras

by Celticas



Series: Operation: Harmony [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22207468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celticas/pseuds/Celticas
Summary: This was originally in the larger Operation: Harmony Fic but I have taken it out and put it here to allow a wider audience to enjoy the larger story.Phil and Clint enjoy an *ahem* intimate evenings entertainment while on a mission.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Series: Operation: Harmony [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598590
Kudos: 34





	1. Night 4

**Author's Note:**

> Taken from the end of Chapter 16.

The door wasn’t fully closed when Phil pushed Clint roughly against it, too impatient to wait. Their combined body weight slamming the heavy wood closed, with a soft ‘oof’ from Clint.

He was laughing even as Phil claimed his mouth, things had been so up in the air with Phil and the secrecy of his latest project that the fun had gone out of their sex life a while ago. It was nice to have it back. The kiss was messy, and more teeth were involved then either of them liked, but it was shot through with laughter and searching hands.

Skin met skin. Phil’s warm hands sneaking under Clint’s button up shirt. The fabric was stretched tight across the archer’s impressive chest and shoulders, and the added tension of Phil’s hands had buttons popping and skittering across the wooden floor.

“Hey!” Clint protested with a laugh, pulling away from the kiss to do it. He didn’t care about the shirt, but knew Phil would. 

Hands wrapped in the gaping front of his shirt, Phil dragged Clint towards the bedroom, he didn’t care about the shirt, he cared about getting his hands on more of his husband’s golden skin. Walking backwards, his mouth was demanding, hungry to relearn Clint’s taste.

Clint had to throw out an arm to steady them as they stumbled into the bedroom. Each of them caught up in the kiss and trying to press as much of their bodies together as possible while still walking. Phil backed himself into the mattress and toppled down onto it, dragging Clint down on top of himself.

Urging the ruined shirt down over Clint’s shoulders, it got stuck at Clint’s elbows, his forearms and hands too busy trying to undo the button on the unfamiliar pants. He knew all of Phil’s pants at home, the fabric soft and yielding. These weren’t as sex friendly. Still hard with new fabric stiffness and a slightly different design than the older man normally favoured, it was taking him an unacceptable amount of time to get the fucking button through the fucking hole!

They struggled against each other for a second, Phil trying to get Clint’s shirt off and Clint trying to get Phil’s pants undone. Seams protesting the strain. Phil gave up first, he let go of the shirt and allowed Clint to have his way.

With a smug grin, Clint got the pants unbuttoned and the zip down, his hand wrapping around Phil’s hard length before he realised what was happening.

Phil lost his breath at the contact. Mind whiting out as Clint moved his hand, rough calluses catching deliciously against soft skin. It was Phil’s turn to pout, he didn’t have the brain capacity to choose between keeping Clint’s hand on his dick and getting the offending shirt off. Normally so good at planning and contingencies, when it came to Clint, his higher brain functions shorted out. They had since the first time they had met. He mostly had it under control, through long practice, but he was overwhelmed by the warmth and weight of the body pressing down on his. Surrounded by the sweet scent of sun and honest sweat he surrendered. 

Clint solved the dilemma for him, shimmying his free arm out of the sleeve, leaving it hanging from one arm. Swapping hands he finished removing the shirt without letting up on the slow, steady pump he had started.

“Oh, god.” Phil gasped, writhing under Clint’s larger bulk. Leaning up slightly he licked a stripe across one of the newly exposed nipples and then blew softly.

The move had Clint gasping and his hips grinding down, catching Phil and his own hand between their bodies.

“Too many. God yes. Clothes.” Phil moaned, he matched the pressure. He stripped off his own shirt, fingers fumbling on the buttons as Clint lent down and bit his collarbone and then his pec as each new sliver of skin was revealed. Eventually, he got it undone, and wriggled out of it.

Toeing off his shoes, he snuck a hand down between them, searching for the fly of Clint’s pants, desperate to remove the last bits of material separating them. Clint pulled back slightly, lifting his hips from where they had been grinding own. No longer pressed together, he released Phil and finished removing the other man’s pants, working them down muscled legs. Stopping to bite and nibble on his way down.

Pulling Phil’s socks off along with his pants, Clint finally divested him of the last of his clothing. Standing, he took a small step back, just to admire the body splayed out before him. It also allowed Phil to look his fill. Lack of a shirt allowed silver moonlight to bounce of golden skin and muscles that a Renaissance sculpture could only wish to replicate, pants open and hanging off slim hips, his cock jutting out of the wide vee, it was a sight he would never get tired of looking at, but if Clint didn’t get a fucking move on, he was going to have to do something drastic.

Luckily, Clint started moving again. Shucking his own pants, shoes and socks, his skin luminous in the moonlight that was streaming in the open window. The sea breeze played across increasingly sweat coated skin. Clint knelt on the mattress between Phil’s legs and slowly spread them, opening Phil to him. Leaning down, he kissed Phil, tongue licking into the older man’s mouth, demanding entrance. Bodies lined up perfectly, they moved against each other, both seeking the friction they needed but not quite finding it. 

All of his weight on one elbow, Clint reached for the bedside table with the other arm. Perfect aim coming into play as his hand closed over the drawer handle and wrenched it open on the first try. Hand easily finding the bottle of lube within, he returned his attention to the man beneath him, pressing their hips even closer together, he slowly moved down Phil’s body, pausing to lick across one nipple and then bite the other, tongue flicking quickly in and out of his belly button. Chin and then nose nudging against Phil’s twitching cock he licked a broad stripe from root to tip before taking the whole length in one slow swallow.

Phil nearly came off the bed at the sudden sensation. Muscles contracting in surprise and then loosening as the pleasure of heat and warmth and suction rolled over him in waves so close together they were almost one never-ending floors.

Mouth occupied, Clint worked one lubricated finger inside the other man, pressing and twisting in counterpoint to the suck and swallow of his mouth. Working him open intoxicatingly slowly. Taking his time, he slid in a second finger spreading them slightly then pushing them further in, curling inside until they found the perfect spot to send Phil thrashing. 

Hands grabbed at his shoulders and hair desperately looking for something to hold onto but lost in the sensations, trying to pull him off and hold him where he was at the same time.

“More. Please. God. Clint. Fuck.” Phil panted above him. Words tumbling out unheeded. Phil was more loquacious in bed than Clint, the only place in his life where he didn’t have to guard his words.

Clint grinned around the cock still in his mouth. Slurping his way off, he moved quick as lightning, pulling his fingers out and slamming his way home. Phil howled. He was loose enough from Clint’s loving ministrations that it was pure pleasure.

Clint sent a punishing pace, pulling out and pushing in slowly but hard, each time he bottomed out Phil was pushed an inch up the bed. Flinging his arms above his head, he braced against the headboard, stabilising himself for Clint to continue moving.

“Yes!” Phil grunted when the blunt head of Clint’s thick cock hit against that little bundle of nerves. Reflexively, Phil rippled around Clint. Muscles clenching.

Having found his target, it was easy for Clint to find it again, and again, tipping Phil over into sparking ecstasy. Warmth bursting between their bodies, Clint continued to move through the clenching of Phil’s muscles. The rolling clench and release around Clint’s hard cock pulled him over the edge. Both of their breaths stuttering as they were left panting from the intense release.


	2. Chapter 2

Rolling slightly, he was able to press his front against Clint’s, their bodies lining up perfectly. Familiarity giving a smoothness to their movements that new lovers would lack. The new position put pressure in all the right places, a physical manifestation of his appreciation for Clint’s methods.

A need for breath had him pulling away. Gasping a ‘good morning’ before ducking back in for more.

Hips moving languidly, they moved together. Hands clutched or stroked any skin that was exposed, but didn’t go looking for more. They weren’t in a hurry. Gradually, Phil expanded his attention from Clint’s lips and the hot, hard length of him pressed through two thin layers of cotton. Kissing the corner of his mouth, nibbling under one ear, licking and nipping his way down Clint’s corded neck.

Rolling away he stretched across the bed, free hand flailing for a second as it felt for the tiny handle of the bedside table. Gripping it he ripped it open and grabbed for the bottle he wanted. He dropped it by their hips.

Returning to his ministrations he reaching the stretched out neck of an old Marine’s tee shirt, Phil put just enough distance between their chests to pull the cotton barrier away. Taking his own shirt off at the same time. Working his way down the magnificent, golden torso that was spread out before him, Phil took the time to kiss each old scar and new cut.

Under him, Clint was moaning, his hips moving searching for friction. One hand gripped the sheet with white-knuckled intensity, and the other carded softly through Phil’s hair, encouraging him without demanding more. The restrained tenderness was Phil’s undoing. Sliding the rest of the way down, he pulled Clint’s sleep pants and boxer briefs out of the way and took the other man’s dick in his mouth in one long swallow. 

“Oh Shit!” Clint arched off the bed. The hand in Phil’s hair slipping to the sheets and grabbing on rather than pull at the already thinning strands.

Phil swallowed again, the very tip of Clint rubbing against the back of his throat. Clint slumped back even as his hips thrust forward, pushing himself that last little bit deeper.

“Oh god.” He moaned, voice drawn out and thin with need.

Pulling back and pushing down. Phil set up a slow, deep, rhythm. His left hand lifted from the sheets and softly held Clint’s balls, holding them without changing the pressure. Stroking the soft skin.

“Oh crap.” Clint gasped.

Letting go, his fingers glidded lightly, teasingly, against soft skin to find the puckered hole of Clint’s ass. A single fingertip applied the slightest pressure, the ring of muscles resisted. Pressing slightly harder, he pulled off enough to lick up the length of Clint’s hard dick, the tip of his tongue teased against and around the head of Clint’s cock as the same moment his finger breached his husband. 

“Phiiill…” The sound dragged and ended with a sigh.

The single finger pressed in smoothly as he lowered his mouth with the same single minded determination. Taking the whole length and staying there, his throat fluttering around the thick intrusion. With his other hand he fumbled for the cool bottle, flicking it open he blindly drizzled it over his hand and fingers on one of the outward movements, never letting up.

Crooking his finger, he twisted the digit, using the easy movement to loosen the muscle holding him tight. After a moment he pulled everything but the tip of the finger out, a second one joined the first and pressed in, Clint’s body opening for it even easier than the first. The whole time, he held his mouth still, swallowing around the other man as he carefully breathed through his nose.

Scissoring his fingers, he stroked against the sensitive nerves deep inside. It wasn’t long before he could press in a third. Adding more cool lube, it dripped down onto his pinkie, tucking it in against the other fingers, he pushed all four in, filling Clint. 

“Fuck.” Clint breathed above him.

Knuckle deep, he stilled his fingers and turned his attention back to Clint’s cock. Nuzzling the wiry golden hair around the root, he licked his way back up and took the very tip back into his mouth.

He sucked hard.

Wriggling the tip of his tongue against the slit, he wriggled his fingers in time. Finally crocking them, he purposefully pressed the bundle of nerves he had only brushed against, the pressure sent a spurt of cum into his mouth. Coating his tongue. Bobbing down, he swallowed the slightly bitter liquid and the throbbing dick in one move.

“Holy shit.” 

Opening the ends of his fingers as wide as he could, he tucked his thumb in tight against his palm, pushing his whole hand deep until he was up to his wrist inside. Stilling everything, he gave Clint a chance to adjust.

Panting above him, it was a long minute of breathing shallowly, and holding his arm perfectly still before a hand squeezed his shoulder, letting him know Clint was okay to keep going.

Tightening his throat, he quickly moved his wrist the hard knuckle at the base of his thumb pressed against the perfect spot as the head of Clint’s cock was squeezed in the vice of Phil’s throat.

With a shout, a seemingly never ending torrent of liquid heat filled his mouth. Convulsively he swallowed. The rippling drawing a second and a third shudder and spurt of cum. The ring of muscle he had so slowly worked open clamped down, gripping his wrist.

Phil waited until Clint’s body began to relax, his back slumping against the mattress in sparking white ecstasy. Lovingly he licked the last traces of pearly cum from Clint’s softening dick and slowly edged his hand free.

His own neglected cock was riding the edge of painfully hard. The slight friction against his soft cotton pants only ramping up the need. With two free hands, he wriggled out of his pants and opened the lube bottle, generously slicking himself up. Moving up the mattress, he hovered over Clint, not doing anything else as the other man was still breathing hard from his release.

“Mkay.” Clint mumbled.

The plastered hand settled lightly against Phil’s neck, the other darted down between them, taking Phil in hand and guiding him into the warm, loose heat of Clint’s body. His asshole fluttered around the base of Phil’s cock. He had to stay there for a second without moving, the sensations too much.

Clint had other ideas, shifting his hips back and then slamming forward as hard as he could, pushing Phil in deeper still. Between them, his spent dick twitched as Phil’s whole, not inconsiderable length and width brushed along his prostate sending another round of sparks through his vision.

“Yes.” He hissed.

With Clint not giving him much choice, he started moving. His hips snapping back and then forward, again and again. The force of his movements inching Clint up the bed until he flung the hand that had been gripping Phil’s hip hard enough to bruise, above his head, wedging it against the headboard as counter pressure. It stabilised everything and Phil’s thrusts slammed into him.

Beads of cum rolled out of his spent cock, the sweet assault on his prostate forcing that last bit out of him.

It didn’t take long for Phil to unravel. Punching all the way in every muscle clenched and then shuddered as his orgasm rolled through his body. Starting in his toes and knocking the breath out of him with a gasp. He stayed there, suspended above Clint as his hips juddered. Spilling his seed deep within Clint’s body.


End file.
